A Little Taste of Home
by Miss Pookamonga
Summary: Birthdays aren't meant to be sad occasions. Written for the the July Teslen fic challenge prompt, "Nikola's Birthday."


_Dear Readers,_

_So this is just about a day late for Nikola's actual birthday, but my muses decided to take a holiday and then I ended up taking a really long nap this afternoon, so I wasn't able to write and post this until now. But anyway, I hope you enjoy my fic for July's Teslen "birthday" challenge for Nikola. Long live the king! May his contributions to the world never be overlooked, taken for granted, or forgotten. Happy birthday, Nikola Tesla :)_

_Best regards from a Tesla-loving Bookworm,_

_Miss Pookamonga ;p_

_

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_**Glossary of Terms **(Courtesy of Wikipedia. I apologize if any of this information is in any way inaccurate.)**  
**

_đuveč - _a traditional Serbian dish of stewed vegetables, similar to the French _ratatouille_

_moussaka _- a layered, baked casserole-type dish made primarily with eggplant and tomato

_dolma _- a small grape leaf roll with a filling of vegetables and/or meat (for this story, they're meatless, since Nikola is a vegetarian)

_krofne _- a type of doughnut filled with custard, chocolate, cream, or jelly

_knedle - _a fruit-filled dumpling similar to the Polish _pierogi_

_doboš torta _- a five-layer sponge cake layered with chocolate buttercream and topped with thin caramel slices

_"Gospode Bože" - _an interjection like "Oh my God"; literally, "Lord God"

_"Srećan rođendan" _- "happy birthday"

_rakija _- a fruit brandy; can come in different varieties depending on the fruit used

_Prošeck _- a Dalmatian dessert wine made from dried grapes, similar to the Italian _Vin Santo_

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**A Little Taste of Home

* * *

**

He had been watching the storm for hours now.

In fact, Nikola had done nothing else since midnight except stare forlornly out his window at the tempest wreaking havoc on Old City. A crash of thunder had startled him from his slumber, and from then on, he hadn't been able to go back to sleep.

He had dreamt of home that night. His first home, his childhood home in Smiljan. He had walked through every flash of a memory from the time he could barely walk to the time just before Dane's death. He had relived everything from his tumbling matches in the barnyard with his cat Mačak to his father's lessons on Sundays after church. For a few short, sweet hours, Nikola had finally regained that pure, untainted, simple joy of living—a joy that had been wrenched away from him on the day of his brother's accident, a joy for which he had been searching endlessly for over a century. He had found it once and for all, the one thing he truly wanted more than anything else—more than his pride, more than a better future for the world, even more than Helen Magnus. But when he had awoken in the middle of the thunderstorm, a storm much like the one during which he had been born exactly one hundred fifty-four years before, reality had slapped him in the face, and once again, that coveted joy had disappeared into the thick shadows of oppressive grief.

So now here he sat in his little bedroom at the Sanctuary, gazing blankly out at the raindrops slithering across the glass windowpanes as the ghosts of long-ago continued to flicker and fade before him, taunting him with their broken promises and inaccessible beauty. He was now almost exactly one hundred fifty-four years and eighteen hours old, growing further and further away from a past he had never wanted to end. A past he wished could be the present—a present devoid of sorrow and suffering and every foul thing that had scarred his life since that fateful day in 1863—

_Knock-knock._

"Hey, yo, Magneto!"

Nikola groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. The "children" had been bothering him all day, periodically knocking on his door, trying to coax him out of his self-imposed house arrest. Too weak-willed to even stand from his seat at the window, he had chosen to ignore them entirely, not even bothering to snap at them or yell back with a typical dismissive response. He had thought that by six o'clock in the evening they would have given up on pestering him, but apparently Helen's little underlings were more persistent than he had initially presumed.

"Hey, Magneto, come on." It was the annoying-yet-oddly-charming female, the one who was always flirting with Tiny Tim. "Open the door."

Nikola clamped his mouth shut.

There was heavy sigh. "Come on, can't you just take one little peek out here?"

Nikola, again, refused to give an answer.

"_Fine_, then," Kate groaned loudly. "I'll just tell Magnus you don't want to have dinner with her. And she went through all that trouble to get some special wine for you—"

"What?" Nikola's shocked reply came flying out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

He could practically hear the young woman smirking on the other side. "I'll just tell her you weren't interested—"

Momentarily forgetting his soul-crushing depression, Nikola bolted from his seat, unlocked the door, and flung it open.

"Are you being serious, Miss Freelander, or is this just another one of your pesky little games designed to mess with my head?"

Kate flashed him a wily grin. "You'll have to follow me to find out."

Nikola frowned, scrutinizing Kate's face. There was something about the sly glint in her eyes that hinted that she was up to something. "I think not," he said finally, moving to close the door. Stupid children, always getting in his way—

"But if I _am _telling the truth, you'll have missed out," Kate blurted out, blocking the door with her hand.

Nikola sighed. Was it really worth trudging after her to see if Helen really wanted to see him? Well, it _was _his birthday, after all. Despite the fact that Helen knew all too well that reminding him of his mortality was a far cry from a good idea, perhaps she had still felt the urge to do _something _for him today. He supposed it couldn't hurt to find out, although he would have much rather stayed cooped up in his cocoon of a room…

"Oh, all _right_," Nikola conceded reluctantly. "But if this is some kind of joke, you and the rest of your little posse have to swear not to bother me again."

Kate beamed triumphantly. "It's a deal. Come on." She boldly reached forward, grabbed hold of his wrist, and began dragging him down the hallway.

"Hey, hey, no _manhandling_!" Nikola snapped, trying in vain to wrench his arm free of Kate's grasp. That girl had one hell of a death grip.

"I have to make sure you don't run away," she half-chuckled, leading the disgruntled scientist to the elevator and yanking him inside once the door opened. "Just in case you happen to change your mind."

"Oh, so you're Helen's police, are you now?" Nikola sneered, still attempting to free his arm.

"At least for today," Kate answered cryptically with a sideways smirk.

Nikola was beginning to regret his decision.

When the elevator finally jolted to a stop, Kate once again dragged Nikola down the hallway, turning this way and that at various corners, until they reached the door to one of Helen's many parlors.

Nikola raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "All right, Helen _never _eats in here, so I think I'm just going to avoid this little prank and—"

He never got the chance to finish his sentence, because Kate suddenly let go of his wrist, threw open the door, and shoved him into the room.

"SURPRISE!"

Nikola's jaw dropped as a chorus of five discordant voices suddenly began serenading him with "Happy Birthday," singing so ridiculously loudly that the booming thunder was all but drowned out. They were all there—Helen, the hairy Sasquatch, Tiny Tim, Huggybear, and the Queen of Snarkiness—beaming radiantly at him as they gathered around a small table covered with an assortment of various dishes. And as Nikola looked closer, he realized that these were not just any dishes—they were dishes from his homeland, dishes that his mother and sisters had prepared so often so long ago, dishes he had not had the pleasure of tasting for far too many years. There was a steaming pot of _đuveč_, a large bowl of vegetable _moussaka_, a plate of freshly-rolled _dolmas_, a tray filled with sweet _krofne _and _knedles_, and a platter holding a magnificent _doboš torta_ with lit candles circling its caramel top. He blinked several times, trying to clear away what clearly could only be one of his intermittent hallucinations, but the sight before him remained in place.

"_Gospode Bože_," Nikola muttered, still frozen in shock.

"_Srećan rođendan_, Nikola," Helen said softly, coming over to him laying a hand gently on his stiffened arm. "Happy birthday."

It was only then that Nikola snapped out of his trance. He slowly turned his head and met Helen's sparkling sapphire eyes. "You…did all this…for me?" he choked. From out of nowhere, a lump began rising in his throat.

"The children helped," she answered, her brilliant smile widening. "Each of us cooked a something for you."

"The whole thing was my idea!" hollered Kate enthusiastically.

"No, it wasn't!" contested Henry. "It was the Doc's idea!"

"Well, it was _my _idea to make it a surprise," Kate shot back indignantly.

"No, that was _my _idea!" whined Will. "You just volunteered to be the one to go get him!"

"What? You _know _I'm the one who came up with the whole plan—"

"Enough!" Bigfoot grunted, whacking each of them upside the head with a large furry hand.

"_OWW_!"

Nikola couldn't help but let a smile creep across his face. Here they all were, _all _of them. Gathered together to throw _him _a party, like a real family. Like _his _family, so long ago…

There was nothing he could say that could adequately express how he felt at this moment.

"Come on, you've got to blow out the candles," Helen half-whispered, her eyes still shining. "And besides," she added with a wink, "I've got _rakija _and wine. Merlot and _Prošeck_."

Nikola's watery eyes widened. "You have _Prošeck_?"

Helen chucked and leaned in to give him a small but tender kiss on the cheek. "Yes. But you have to blow out the candles first. The 'children' want their cake."

A surprised blush bloomed on Nikola's face as Helen pulled away from him and led him to the table. He stood in a daze for a moment as they reached the cake, his eyes still locked on Helen's angelic features. She had kissed him. On the cheek, yes, but she had still kissed him, _willingly_.

"Hey, loverboy, quit staring and blow them out already!" Kate interrupted, pretending to be angry.

Nikola blushed again, unwittingly, and made a face at her. "It's my birthday; I can do what I want," he spat back jokingly. Nevertheless, he turned to face the cake and took a deep breath.

"Don't forget to make a wish," Helen whispered in his ear. She hadn't yet let go of his arm.

Nikola shuddered delightfully and shut his eyes.

And in one large huff, he blew out the flames.

A happy cheer rose through the air as Nikola re-opened his eyes. He suddenly felt dizzy with the emotions bubbling up inside of him, and he was honestly afraid that he might burst. Or faint. But for once, he didn't care. He didn't care because for the first time in a long time, he could smile without worrying that his joy was nothing but a passing dream.

"So, whadjya wish for?" Henry prodded some moments later, swallowing a large bite of cake.

"You're not supposed to tell a wish until it's granted," Bigfoot grumbled reproachfully.

But Nikola smiled softly. "That's all right," he answered, turning to Helen and meeting her eyes. She smiled back. "I think it already has been."

* * *

_**KRAJ **_

**(The End)  
**


End file.
